


Come what may

by 38Akdi



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:10:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/38Akdi/pseuds/38Akdi
Summary: “Will you follow me?”“To death.”





	Come what may

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that popped into my head while day dreaming at work.
> 
> This is part of a larger plot, but I don’t think I’ll ever get the time to write it all out. 
> 
> I’m not a writer, so please go easy on me with the comments (haha)!

“Will you follow me?”

“To death.”

* * *

 

Sometimes, Albus dreams of Ariana.

Of her body sprawled across the floor, face forever frozen in shock. Her eyes, often carried a distant dazed look now clear and focused directly at Albus as if to say this is all your fault.

Other times, Albus dreams of summer breeze, late night discussions under candle lights, and a young man with mismatching eyes and a laugh so contagious that Albus would find himself laughing with him.

And Albus would wake with a great sorrow and phantom pain where his brother broke his nose, longing for a time gone. A time, where his sister was still alive and a time where he truly felt connected.

At times, Albus would sit at the end of his bed with his wand an inch away from his temple ready to extract the memory so he could no longer be haunted by his past and in his dreams.

But he could never bring himself to do it. Could never bring himself to get rid of the best and worst time of his life. He would carry this burden as a penance for his arrogance, pride and blindness of love that consumed his family and consumed him.

So Albus gets up, gets dressed, and prepare for the day to come, where he improve the world by sharing his knowledge to the next generation.

Sometimes, Gellert dreams.

Not of his terrible visions of war torn Europe, but of times past.

He dreams of him younger and freer. Of him on horseback galloping across fields, and light summer days.

He dreams of a young man, with auburn hair that shines like flame under the sun and conversations that lasts until dawn.

And Gellert would wake with a name at the tip of his tongue, and longing in his heart.

So Gellert holds the vial hanging around his neck instead.

Gellert could almost convince himself that he could feel the vial pulse with warmth, and he is reminded of the promises made on a one particularly hot summer evening and to carry on, even when he feels like he’s spiralling out of control.

Because, this is not just his mission, it is theirs. And he will continue to pave the path till he rejoins.


End file.
